I think people talk about finding their other half a lot. But I do not like that.
I do not need my other half because I'm not a half.
And he is definitely not a half. I need him because he makes me a better whole. And I hope i do the same for him.
I need him because he makes me smile.
He makes me feel things I have never felt before.
I did not know what it was like to laugh so hard your stomach hurt until I met him.
I do not think i really knew how to love until I met him.
Everyone thinks that they know who you are and you're so scared that you're gonna disappoint them.
That you're gonna lose them.
Sometimes I wonder what you look like.
Where have you been.
Where you are going.
And other times, few times, I know it already.
Where you are.
Who you are.
Where you're going.
My thoughts are weird, I know. But the one thing I've learned is that my life is parallel to those I've met.
And sometimes the two tend to merge.
It fits, for a little while at least?
And the one thing I know for sure is that no matter who you are, no matter where you are, no matter where you're going;
I know you'll find me.
And I know you'll lose me.
Tell me about the people who have left bits of them in you..
Are they still around?
Do you think about them often?
The sky has it's own dark side.
It is full of scars and I am only human to live with a few.
I looked at you and had a familiar feeling that maybe I knew you , I was sure of it, though I felt certain we had never met.
Still, I couldn't shake the feeling. Maybe it was your smile, the way it gripped a person and was more contagious than your common cold, in the best of ways at least.
Perhaps it was the way your eyes would squint whenever you smiled.
Or maybe it was the way you've known heartache the way most kids have known what it's like to end up with scraped knees or bloodied fist.
You'd never know what it was hiding between a four letter word and a welcoming smile the moment he pressed his lips and uttered hello.
"I love you, will you love me too?"
"Yes, yes i will."
"Even when I can't breathe, even when everything hurts."
"Even when i hurt you? "
"Yeah, even then."
I wonder why good things end.
Losing people who made you smile, people who made you breathe.
When you had the best.
I wonder if things truly end or if they just keep living inside us.
One more loss.
One more struggle.
One more thing you have got to carry in the already so heavy load on your shoulders.
You went through things that made you think life sucks.
But this is going to pass.
Today is the day you stop holding yourself back and to start believing yourself.
Once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through.
You won't be the same person who walked in.
I got hit with a thought I couldn't escape from during this morning.
Even now as I'm writing this, I think about it and no longer want to escape from it but rather make sense of where it stemmed from, it frighten me a bit.
I thought about the connections we built with the people and how many of them make it through the journey. How many get left behind whether by your means or theirs-some just don't make the cut.
I wonder if some people are just meant to be that and then I wondered if I'll ever be just that.
It's like that warm shoe on a cold winter morning feeling. And I think about what this feels like and realise that although things like shoes wear out, the feeling of it is what'...
"Remember I asked you how can one person love only one person their entire life?"
"Yes I do?"
"I think i got the point how can one do it.
And I'm really lucky that I found you."
"You write so good, why don't you show it to the world?"
"I show it to you everyday."
She was as real as heaven and hell. If you saw her you'd say, she came from hell.
All her troubles.
The way she gave a damn about everyone.
But do you even know anything about her?
The pain that she go through daily.
The way she covered the scars with her skin.
How beautiful she was.
If she really was hell,
the hell looked beautiful.
"You write so beautifully".
"You haven't seen the reason why I write".
I have hell inside.
I am a tangled mess
Waiting to be untied.
I am a season with unpredictable
Rainfalls and thunderstorms.
I am rooted
But i flow.
I am not complicated
I am a whole new
Definition of insanity.
The fault was our own,
We kept searching for home in
people when it was inside us.
And she wouldn't die for him,
that was too easy.
she was willing to live through the misery life brings
All for him.